


Fade into Memory

by whimsicalwhims



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-03
Updated: 2008-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:01:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9275063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicalwhims/pseuds/whimsicalwhims
Summary: If Cam had wanted to spend his life on a boat, he would have become a marine.





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Archive Rights:** No. Please do not take this story and post it elsewhere.  
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own SG-1 or any of the characters and situations depicted on the show. No profit is being made from this and no infringement is intended.  
>  **A/N:** Written in response to [this picture](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v233/picfor1000/challenge%206/06/06-33.jpg) for picfor1000.

It’s always the simple missions that go spectacularly ape-shit, Cam thinks as he leans against the ship’s railing, staring down at the blue water. PX4-129 was supposed to have been the new recruits’ last training mission before officially being given the designation SG-42. Jackson and Cam were only to be observers, there in case something went wrong. But no one had counted on what could happen on a planet that was ninety-nine percent water and prone to earthquakes. And Cam’s last glimpse of SG-42’s faces--

Cam sighs as he pulls up the fishing net Jackson rigged. Half a dozen fish, more than enough for dinner, but Cam’s never cared much for sushi. Jackson says it’s an acquired taste; Cam fears he’ll have the time to find out.

*

Jackson took the ship from a dead man, not long after the first floods hit and it was only the two of them left.

“We won’t survive on this raft for long,” Jackson had said.

Cam had agreed. The boat was bigger--not huge--but there was just enough room for two men to sleep below deck. Still, he has to wonder if the man had been shot before or after Jackson found him.

*

It rains almost every night.

The sound of rain hitting the deck above wakes Cam moments before he feels the drops of cold water splashing his face. He gets up, careful not to wake Jackson who’s still sleeping beside him, and brings two of their barrels back down below. He leaves the other four where they are, poised to catch the rain that’s their only source of fresh water. 

We’ll have to patch the deck again tomorrow, Cam thinks as he positions the barrels to catch the worst leaks and settles back down to sleep. Beside him, Jackson is snoring.

*

“You know we’re lucky,” Jackson says on the morning of the forty-sixth day they’ve been on this god-forsaken-boat.

Cam stares at him: scruffy and sunburned, looking as though he doesn’t have a care in the world. Cam knows that Jackson knows they’re Screwed, with a capital S. Over six weeks with no rescue is not a good sign. 

“We’re alive,” Jackson says with a pointed look. 

Cam thinks that he must be acting fairly depressed if Jackson feels that he has to give Cam this pep talk.

“Do you think it was the Wraith or the Ori?” Cam has to ask, because he knows that the SGC would come for them if they could. 

“Could be option C, for all we know.”

Yeah, an unknown hostile alien, hell-bent on destroying Earth. Not like that’s anything new.

*

They go almost four days without speaking once. Cam doesn’t even realize it at first, but there are only so many old stories one can tell. It’s not until the crashing sound of thunder wakes him up, and Cam has to clear his throat before he can tell Jackson it’s his turn to check the barrels, that Cam does a quick mental count.

If, when Jackson returns, he wonders why Cam suddenly decides to regale him with a story about the time he broke his arm falling out of a hay loft, he doesn’t say.

But it worries Cam, how the monotonous days are slowly starting to blend into one. He knows himself well enough to realize that he needs a distraction. Anything--Sunday crossword puzzles and reality t.v. shows are even starting to sound good right now--that doesn’t have to do with water or nautical vessels. Cam was born to fly. He knows that he’s not cut out for life at sea; if he had wanted to spend his life on a boat, he would have become a marine.

He takes to pacing the length of the boat, counting his laps as he waits for the fishing nets to fill. 

Jackson--damn him--seems to have found all the distraction he needs, spending countless hours sitting on the deck, meditating as he studies the ocean.

“Spar with me,” Cam says, his muscles twitching with the need for some type of physical activity.

“I don’t want to risk capsizing.” Jackson’s eyes stay locked on sea. He squints for a second, his body tense as a silvery fish jumps high into the air. He relaxes, shaking his head. “I thought it was the gate.”

Oh. For a linguist, Jackson sucks at communication, Cam thinks as he takes the spot next to him. 

Somewhere, under miles of water, there’s a stargate. The thought gives Cam purpose. Maybe, one day, they’ll be able to find it.

*

“I could go crazy out here,” Cam admits to Jackson in the dead of night.

Jackson stays quiet, his hand reaching out to squeeze Cam’s. But Jackson doesn’t pull away.

It’s a moment out of time, Cam thinks as he listens to Jackson breathe. And it’s easier than Cam thought it would be, to press Jackson against him. The pitch-black night leaves no room for shadows. Cam works his hand between their bodies, releasing a breath he hadn’t known that he was holding as Jackson’s fingers undo Cam’s belt.

Jackson is hard planes and sinewy muscle. It feels good, rocking back against him. “We should have tried this before,” Cam says as he draws Jackson’s tongue into his mouth.

“You weren’t ready,” Jackson gasps into the kiss.

Maybe not, Cam thinks as he tastes the salt on Jackson’s skin.

*

Jackson ties his hair back when it gets too long. Cam uses a knife to trim his own, ignoring Jackson’s amused chuckle at the sight. It looks okay to Cam, but the water is his only mirror, and Cam learned a long time ago that she can’t be trusted.

Sometimes Cam starts to think that the sea is all there ever was. His other life is simply fading away like the pages of a forgotten photo album. He says as much to Jackson, pressing his face against Jackson’s back as they stand on the deck. 

Jackson doesn’t have an answer, but Cam wasn’t really expecting one.


End file.
